Not Worth the Trouble
by CLDJendis66
Summary: Yet, after all the chasing, all the blood shed, how their beliefs clashed so horrendously to where it seemed nothing could be salvaged… he'd come to deeply respect his opponent. His opponent who went through so much to understand him when there was no need for him to.


He'd come this far through revenge.

It had felt right.

Even as he felt the knife in his chest hold back death while inviting it in.

But the man that held him upright to watch the sunset made him wonder if his efforts had always been in vain.

"Let me make this right. You can watch me correct the mistake that did more harm than I could possibly know. You opened my eyes and made me realize that the reality we live in is not something we should hide from," said T'Challa.

Erik turned to look at him, hate still seething in veins at how T'Challa had lived such a good life while he'd struggled most of his to get a crumb of food. Yet, after all the chasing, all the blood shed, how their beliefs clashed so horrendously to where it seemed nothing could be salvaged… he'd come to deeply respect his opponent. His opponent who went through so much to understand him when there was no need for him to.

But he had anyway.

"Why would you go through the trouble, after everything I've done to you?" he asked, keeping eye contact with T'Challa. "You might as well end me and avoid creating strife amongst your people."

"Because you want to see this change happen as much as I do. Maybe our approaches are different, but you can't deny that I acknowledge your perspective in all this," insisted T'Challa.

Erik stared ahead at the sunset and recalled his father's words of how the life he'd ended up having was not what he'd wanted for him.

"I'll be a prisoner. I won't be free," he stated.

"You understand that I cannot easily dismiss your past actions, but it does not mean I am going to forget your existence or that I am offering this out of pity," said T'Challa firmly.

"Are you prepared to face the consequences my existence will bring you? It's gonna be hard and painful," he said.

"I am," responded T'Challa.

"Then I accept your offer."

* * *

Shuri stared at her brother as if he'd lost his mind. "You can't be serious?!"

"I am," said T'Challa as he carried in a bleeding Erik into her still functioning lab, knife still in place.

Why was he doing this? Why was he doing so much for someone who took so much from them?

"Because we took from him and we never took responsibility for our actions. I want to make it right, but with him alive," he explained as he carefully laid their opponent on the operating table.

As much as Shuri wanted to tell him off, that he was a fool for wanting sort out their father's mistake, their ancestor's mess, she couldn't bring herself to. Because if not him, then who else willingly would? It was a heavy decision that he alone would carry, but it didn't mean it was fair to make it any harder than it already was.

She sighed. "Fine. I will do this because I trust you."

"Thank you Shuri."

T'Challa was still her brother, yet already he had become a great king before her eyes.

* * *

It was odd, waking up and not at being at death's door.

But as he registered his surroundings, he saw that his hands were restrained and attached to a device that could monitor his thoughts and actions. He smirked. He liked a challenge, but he wasn't feeling that urge to succumb to it and attempt to escape.

"What are you smiling about?"

He turned around and saw the source of the voice, Shuri, the king's sister.

"Just admirin' your work. It's impressive."

Shuri's glare at him didn't change, but she didn't try to be petty either. "Thank you. Now get changed, my brother wants to discuss with you."

* * *

"So what's up?" asked Erik in the most uninterested voice he could muster.

"I'm going to reveal Wakanda's existence to the world through a conference," responded T'Challa.

"That's boring, you need to overpower your enemies, not stoop to a level where they can overpower you," he said.

T'Challa shook his head. "There's two sides to every coin. Your approach could've saved many yes, but what could've possibly stopped them from becoming the monsters you'd come to despise? We are all capable of turning into things we disdain if we become drunk with power. Hate is a powerful motivator, but it can consume anyone. Even myself," he explained.

Erik had years of experience in taking down powerful enemies, well aware of the force of power vacuums. However, he never fully considered that even the goodest of souls could get caught up in that chaos. Regardless, he remained silent.

"I know I do not know what you probably know of war, so I am sharing what I have observed over the years," added T'Challa. "Now, let's go, I have something I want you and Shuri to see."

* * *

He stared up into his old home as the other two discussed.

"This is where our father killed our uncle," said T'Challa.

"They're tearing it down," pointed out Shuri.

"Not anymore, I bought it," stated T'Challa as he pointed to it and then some others, "and that one over there and that one too."

"Why?" she asked.

"I'm going to make this the first Wakanda International Outreach Center," T'Challa said proudly to his sister with a smile.

From afar, a tear fell down Erik's face for the first time in years.

There was still a long ways to go, but this was already a good start.


End file.
